


The VVitch

by Marasa



Series: Mike and Jay Do Movies [1]
Category: RedLetterMedia RPF
Genre: Horror, M/M, Mike is Black Phillip, References to Depression, Soul Selling, but Jay’s more evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: The woods surrounding his farm emitted a darkness beckoning him completely.
Relationships: Mike/Jay
Series: Mike and Jay Do Movies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591657
Comments: 16
Kudos: 22





	The VVitch

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had the idea for this series for awhile. I plan to make the fics in this series relatively short, each of them based on a specific film. We’ll see how it goes. I have some others already in the works, but I thought what better way to start than with The VVitch.
> 
> Heads up that this is written in Ye Olde English.

The woods surrounding his farm emitted a darkness beckoning him completely.

Again Jay strayed from the protection of the fences now guarding over nothing given the mysterious disappearances of his animals and the wilt of his crop. This time Jay did not enter into the darkness with a curious hesitance but now marched straight into the heart of the storm. 

In his heart, he desired to lay eyes upon that hellish creature of temptation once again and so was summoned forth the demon whose presence the twenty-four year old could always feel. 

Mike stood in the midst of the towering trees. A cloak of shadows flowed over his wide figure. His dark eyes were outlined in a sooty shadow, as were the tips of his fingers. 

“Here again,” Mike said, still somehow captivated by the mere sight of this human but never letting it show. “Dost thou long for me?”

Jay’s eyes smoldered. “You wear flattery horrendously.”

Mike’s smile was dangerous. 

Those first few times Jay had wandered into the unknown, and even later during those few nights he had entered into the forest with his loins aflame with lust, Jay had carried an axe with him. For protection against beasts, he assured, but there Mike had arrived at his needy command and taken him as roughly as this human demanded, his teeth sharp as sin and his black horns the same as the goat’s whose form he used when he danced along the edge of the woods. 

“Why art thou alone?” Mike said. “In woods that have swallowed thy livestock? Thy crop, all fortune and faith? Tell me, dearest.”

Jay glared. He did not falter under Mike’s approaching form or his intimidating aura. “I do not fear the horn,” he said. “Nor the fire. I yearn for Hell as long as it allows me to live beside thee.”

Not a hint of fear. Determination was the only thing coloring his voice in the labyrinth of woods where the mighty Minotaur of Dis rambled. 

Mike had to laugh. 

It was gross and disrespectful, a gravelly thing that had Jay swallowing. This was all so new coming from Jay; just like a human to grow sentimental over some good fucking.

“A farm boy, aching for a life of evil. And not even a hair on thy chest in thy later years!”

“Fuck you, Devil.”

“You call me wrongly. Speaketh my true name.”

Jay tilted his chin upward and Mike suddenly felt that he was the one who needed to be careful. The human’s soft lips parted, his eyebrows tilted upward. His airy voice broke like a moan of ecstasy. “Breathtaking, most beautiful fallen angel, L- Lucifer?”

“Michael.”

“What!?” Jay choked a shocked laugh. “Surely you jest!”

“Fuck you!”

“So, not Lucifer but rather a minion of Hell, named Michael no less. Okay, ‘Mike.’”

Mike’s lip curled. He went to growl a harsh sound of which usually instilled fear within every living creature. But he paused. He was amused by this one. Jay was intrigued by evil, perhaps drawn to it. He was also strong in his conviction. Even when Mike had been plastered against his front the night the moon had been full and they had been yearning for each other completely, mouths wet as their pricks between their legs, and Mike’s horns had slipped into view, Jay had looked upon him with a smile of wild wonder and frantic curiosity.

“Are you deterred from desire at the mention of my name?” Mike sounded a little too sensitive for his liking. He thought himself incapable of such vulnerability but Jay unearthed new things in him, uncomfortably so. 

Jay responded softly. “This rose still smells as sweet.”

“Shakespeare.”

“You knowest him?”

“I tempted him in his bedchambers.” Mike drifted closer as if he were floating above the forest floor. He might have been, but Jay could not look away from Mike’s dark eyes. Mike reached out a finger and trailed it down his jaw and under his chin. “I made him sweat in the shadows. I lay my fingers upon his tongue. I made him yearn for eternal life.”

“Just as I yearn now,” Jay said. “Give it me.”

“You don’t know what you ask for.”

“I have spilled my seed thinking of you.”

“And just when I am sure what I smell on thy skin is hellfire, what I see reflected in thy gaze is brimstone. Just when I am sure you have been pulled from the black silk of evil, thou provest to be such a sensitive soul. How could I ever corrupt you?”

“You must! I demand it!”

Jay’s hands came up to clutch at the cold skin of Mike’s wrist. He was trembling with want, practically clawing into him with fingernails dirtied by the land.

“Jay,” said the demon with the Archangel’s name, “I cannot love.”

“Nor I.”

“Precious liar. Your heart beats blood and the capacity for love.” His hand moved from Jay’s chin but the grip around his wrist did not lessen. Mike pressed his palm over Jay’s heart. “I feel it now beneath my cold hand.”

“What dost thou feel?”

“Love. Pure love.”

Jealousy bristled within Mike, a deep envy gnawing at the void in his chest. He resented that he would never feel that warmth in his own bosom. It was cold forever inside him, a raging winter that could not harbor love’s burning existence.

“You will not become like me,” Mike said. “You will stay man.”

“But untouched I shall be by time or by Death.”

Mike’s jaw tightened. 

“I ask thee this, Wickedness.” Jay’s nose wrinkled at the name. “Why dost thou desire eternal damnation and the preservation of thy body?”

Mike could tell him what awaited him if only he returned to his quiet life of piety. He had seen that realm, had lived in it himself when he had been fashioned, but now he remembered it in vague glimpses that made him weep icy drops of deepest agony. 

Jay smirked. “So I may live in limitless sin, hellion.” 

“You will suffer.”

“I will laugh.”

Nothing would deter him. Their previous copulation only confused him now and muddled his wishes. 

“If it is I that you want,” Mike said, “you have me. Forget the contract; I am already yours.” 

“For how long?” Jay’s whispered voice came like the wind through the trees. “The promise of the eventual end plagues my mind. I cannot bear it. I have longed for eternity, but now I long for thee.”

Mike searched his face with a soft of hope. His face dimmed, however, as he settled on the faintest traces of truth across Jay’s face. 

“Liar.”

Jay’s seemingly innocent expression slowly contorted into one of poisonous amusement. He smirked grossly, mischievous darkness glistening in his eyes under the cloudy sky. 

“Come, demon,” he praised. “Thou art wiser than I once believed.”

“Thou art Lucifer in disguise. Beautiful angel, God’s beloved one once touched by beauty and grace. Now I see it,” Mike laughed painfully. “It is Heaven’s shadow I spy across thy face.”

“Hush now.” Jay looked beautiful wearing flattery. “I am not Satan. If I was, I wouldn’t be here. The contract,  _ Mike _ . Now.”

Out of thin air came the contract on paper smelling of brimstone. The pen manifested in Jay’s grip.

“I- I do not know how to write.”

“I will guide thy hand.”

Mike’s tall figure towered over him. His large hand held Jay’s holding the pen. Jay’s pulse raced through the veins on the back of his hand, a steady throb that reminded Mike of intercourse on the forest floor, of life, love. 

Soon Jay’s heart would cease, putrefy, ice over like a planet far, far away. Came forth the thick flow of ink bleeding across the paper held aloft in the air by invisible forces. Jay’s fingers did not shake, but Mike struggled to keep his still. 

_ Jerry. Bauman.  _

The page erupted into flame. The pen became smoke. 

“It is done,” Mike lamented. A robin cried at the height of a nearby tree just as the crow harkened a sound dark as the night. Ice frosted the inside of Jay’s ribcage. Love’s fire extinguished in him.

Jay laughed, laughed, laughed. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Don’t hesitate to request some movies and I’ll see what I can do lol


End file.
